


Frogs

by elderprices



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Emetophobia, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 20:40:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5063344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elderprices/pseuds/elderprices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When life is at an all-time low for Kevin, he's reunited with an old friend from his mission who acts as a perfect distraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was just a checkup. He didn’t have strep, or the flu, or symptoms pointing to any life-threatening illness. In fact, he was feeling particularly chipper for a Monday morning.

Then something _had_ to come up, and they were _obligated_ to do another round of tests. And then the doctor hung his head and delivered the bad news and a few hours later he was sent back out onto the sunny streets of Salt Lake City as if nothing had happened.

A pay phone in the only patch of shade for miles was his only solace. Shaking fingers punched at the numbers, then waited, then dialed again, then waited.

"Hello?“ A girl. A familiar voice.

"Can I speak to Arnold please?”

"Who is this?“

"It’s Kev… _Elder_ Price.”

The girl on the other line gave a squeal of excitement.

"Elder Price?!“ Another, almost higher-pitched squeal came from somewhere behind her. The phone was wrestled between the two in a hurry, until the winner answered the phone in a huffing hello.

“Hi, Arnold.” He tried a smile to ease his friend.

"What’s up?! You doing okay? How are things over there?” His attempt at catching up was sweet. Kevin almost wished he were back with his companion, back in little Kitguli, where things were more optimistic. Back where he had little knowledge or care of what his future held.

"Things are… _okay_.“ He could feel the smile disintegrate on Arnold’s face. His friend could only muster a small “oh”. “I, uh… I went to the doctor today.”

“…uh-huh.”

Kevin pulled away from the phone’s receiver to take in a deep, trembling breath. He didn’t want Arnold to hear just how close he was to crying.

“And… it turns out…” He stopped. Took another breath. And tried a different approach. Slowly, he forced a half-smile. “You wouldn’t happen to have anymore of those _frogs_ over in Uganda, would you?” A bitter chuckle left this throat. Arnold mimicked him, if only for lack of an understanding.

“Frogs?” He giggled. “Like Joseph Smith’s _AIDS_ frogs?” Then he understood. And he stopped laughing. “You… you have…”

“It’s not as bad as you think. There are treatments.”

“Are you _dying_?”

Kevin pursed his lips.

“I… I don’t know.”

Arnold was sobbing now. Kevin could almost see his companion, clasping desperately to the phone, trembling in a heap on the floor. Praying for his life as they spoke. He couldn’t bare to listen to his tears for ten more minutes.

“Listen, Arnold, I… I have to go. Yeah, I’ll call you later today. Sure.” He swallowed hard to fight back stubborn tears. “I love you, too, pal.”


	2. Chapter 2

Kevin’s pancakes smiled up at him with a taunting pineapple-slice grin.

Their artificially sweet aroma was something he still hadn’t grown used to, even after a year of being back in the states. He would throw them out when Mrs. Price had her back turned, but the thought of wasting food made him even more nauseous than scarfing it all down. He forced himself to finish half, at least to have something close to substantial in his stomach. Then he slid his remains across the table, knowing the twins would be up to fight over his left-overs any minute. Jack Price watched suspiciously.

“Not hungry?” He asked with a charming mouthful of cereal.

“I haven’t been hungry for three years.”

“Was Africa _really_ that bad?”

“Food-wise, yes.”

“What’d you even eat in… where was it again?”

“ _Uganda_.”

“I knew it started with a ‘u’.” Jack pointed a knowing finger to him. “Yeah, what’d you even _eat_ in Uganda that turned you off from from food?” He slurped up another spoonful of sugary flakes. Kevin tried his best not to visibly gag.

“Not enough.” With all his strength, he hiked himself up from the kitchen table. His younger brother just barely paid mind to his teetering.

“Where’re _you_ going?” He had obvious trouble abandoning the role of “man of the house”, even after Kevin’s return. The taller one rolled his eyes as he slipped on a coat.

“To church.”

“It’s, like, eighty degrees outside. Why do you need a jacket?”

“Because I’m cold.”

Jack leaned against the back of his chair. Looking his older brother up and down with narrowed eyes. And the slightest hint of a sneer.

“Boy. Africa sure did make you _weird_.” He turned back to his first priority, growing mushy in his bowl. Kevin stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“Great. Thanks.” He unlocked the barely-used back door, and just stepped out into the early afternoon heat before his younger brother stopped him. He poked his head back in with a groan.

"What is it?“ He demanded of the boy. Jack waved a desperate hand across the kitchen, to the toaster oven on the counter.

"Can you turn on the toaster on your way out? I forgot to heat up the twins’ pop tarts.” Kevin held his stomach.

"Pop tarts?“ The word was enough to bring up what little breakfast he’d forced down.

—

Cracking the sky with its magnificent spires stood the Salt Lake Temple, tall and hallowed in the beating heart of the square. Contented murmur swelled on the avenue as people snapped pictures of the sparkling white walls of the church. Every so often, pairs of boys in their pressed best whizzed by on bicycles, newly printed name badges gleaming proudly. The square welcomed any Mormon home with open arms, with familiar sounds and friendly faces.

Kevin passed by it all with his head turned down.

Just around the corner sat a much more comforting building. Though significantly smaller in size and stature, its glowing green-and-white sign was no less inviting. He pushed the door open with a weak shoulder, and was instantly romanced by the bitter aroma of burned, overpriced coffee.

The Salt Lake City Starbucks earned most of its patronage from tourists just passing through. Considering most of the locals were Mormon. Kevin Price would have to guiltily sip away at his coffee in the corner, away from judging eyes, whenever he made an afternoon run. For what would happen if one of his old church friends happened upon him? Even his parents didn’t know about his daily coffee binges, and he knew it would be better if they stayed in the dark.

He shook off the thought and stepped to the front of the line. Everything that was bothering him–the sins and the lack of belonging and the illness that ticked away at the core of his body. All of it could easily be remedied for a cheap $2.25.

"Can I get a venti dark roast please?” Kevin tapped his gold card impatiently against the counter. The new barista, one he had never seen before today, poked at the register’s buttons at his leisure. Sluggishly rung him up. Swiped the card painfully slow. Scribbled Kevin’s name on the cup.

"Venti dark roast.“ The barista drawled back to his co-worker.

"Why don’t _you_ get it?”

"Lunch.“ He pulled off his apron and hat, and was out from behind the counter in a flash. Kevin found himself waiting one moment too long before the other, much shorter barista scuttled out. With hectic hands, he poured the coffee as he was still wiggling into his apron.

"Sorry about that.” He muttered.

"It’s alright.“ Kevin lied through his teeth.

"Did you want room for milk?”

"No thanks.“

The barista chuckled playfully.

”Black, huh?“

”Excuse me?“

"Nevermind.” He capped the cup and took a short glance to the name on the side before sliding it across the counter.

"Here you are, Kev…“ He gasped, so suddenly Kevin almost dropped his coffee. ”Kevin?! Kevin _Price_?!“ The brunette turned back to the register with a cocked eyebrow.

"I’m sorry. Do I… _know_ you?”

The barista almost instantly pulled off his hat to reveal an all too familiar head of red hair. A little longer, a little more scruffy, but familiar nonetheless. The boy was smiling almost from ear to ear, freckled cheeks visibly blushing.

"It’s _me_! Connor McKinley!“


	3. Chapter 3

His cheeks were still deep pink from two years of hard African sunshine. He smiled sweetly, with that charming gap in his teeth, just as he had when he shook Kevin’s hand for the first time. His voice was soft and calming and held just a hint of the lisp he had tried so desperately to conceal.

All in all, he hadn’t changed, and Kevin was grateful. The sight–the sound–of a fellow missionary was comforting. Necessary, even, in Kevin’s silent moments of atrophy.

Elder McKinley ( _Connor_ , as he continuously reminded him) spoke happily of his time back in the states so far. He was finally going to college, pursuing in a field he had to basically beg his parents for permission to apply to. Kevin remembered the missionary, in his self-sewn sequined best, tap dancing up and down the halls of their mission hut day and night. How he constantly told of his passion for dance, and how he only wished his parents would indulge in his crazed dreams of professional performing. And he smiled. At least _he_ was happy.

"So what’re _you_ doing these days?“ Elder McKinley–Connor asked, stirring away at his tea. Kevin snapped to with a shake of his head.

"Uhh…” His fingers drummed anxiously against the tabletop. How could he word “dying slowly” in a way that wouldn’t evoke pity? “Not much of anything, really. I volunteer at the temple sometimes, but other than that–” Connor’s smile dropped short and suddenly.

"Oh. I didn’t realize you were still… _involved_ with the church.“ Kevin managed a small laugh.

"Well, yeah.” And then he backtracked. “Aren’t _you_?” Now it was Connor’s turn to laugh.

" _God_ no!“ He toned down his attitude when he caught a glimpse of Kevin Price, horrified and mute. "It’s just… I met someone at school and… you know how the church is like that. With… people like me. It just wasn’t the right religion for me, you know?” He gave a measly shrug of disinterest. Kevin shook his head innocently.

"People like you?“

"Gay guys.”

"Oh.“ A second. And then it hit him. "You’re _gay_?!” Connor hushed him furiously.

" _Goodness_ , Kevin. Why don’t you say it a little louder so the whole state of Utah can hear?“ He laughed. Kevin mimicked him, though far from humored and frankly uncomfortable. He scavenged for conversation nonetheless.

"So… are you still with that… person?” Staying politically correct, of course. Connor’s smile twisted into something less genuine, more melancholy.

"No. Things didn’t… work out to well, I guess.“ His thumbs twiddled nervously around his cup. "I wanted a relationship, and I guess he was just looking for someone to sleep with, you know?”

"N-not really.“

"Lucky for him, I was so deep into the honeymoon phase I didn’t even hesitate.” He took a bitter swig of his now too strong tea and winced. Kevin pursed his lips nervously, unsure how to respond.

"Did you… you didn’t… _do_ it with him, did you…?“ An all too serious question. He could only imagine how terrible that must be, to lose his virginity at such a young age, before marriage. With a _man_.

Connor blushed hard. A giggle revved in the back of his throat as he threw his head into his hands.

"Oh my God, Kevin!” He pushed the boy playfully in the shoulder. Kevin couldn’t help but smile. “I’m sorry. That was a little too much information, wasn’t it?”

"It’s okay.“ It was only half a lie.

The door to the cafe swung open, two young customers filing in to order at the counter. Connor’s eyes widened.

"Oh shit.” He pulled on his cap, stood to slip on his apron, and called to the customers that he would be with them in a minute. “I’m sorry, I’m still on the clock.” He gestured with a limp wristed wave to the patrons. Kevin stood awkwardly.

"It’s alright. I should probably be going back home anyway.“ His hand instinctively jutted out for a handshake. "It was great seeing you again.” Connor seemed dissatisfied with him–he uttered a low whine as he pouted.

"I’m off tomorrow night, yanno. We should go out somewhere.“ Kevin couldn’t help but blush.

"Oh, I’m not–”

"I’m not asking you out, silly.“ Connor pulled a marker out of his apron pocket to scribble something on the back of Kevin’s cup. "I just want to catch up! See what the great Kevin Price is like out of uniform.” He capped the marker with one hand, passing the cup back to him with the other. The brunette glanced down to see what he had written, and swallowed hard. A phone number.

"That’s my apartment’s phone. If someone else answers, it’s my roommate.“ Then he unexpectedly wrapped his arms around the other’s torso in a squeezing hug. Kevin took a sharp breath in. And held it.

—

He could still taste it in his mouth. That foreign metallic bite, swirling bitterly on his tongue. Dripping down his nose and onto his lips. Spattered into his eyes so all he could see for miles was red. It hadn’t occurred to him that he was soaked in another person’s blood until it was too late, when he was hunched over only yards from the mission hut vomiting up the shock of it all. And even then, he hadn’t thought the slaughter would have such an impact on himself or his health. At least not his physical health.

Kevin didn’t know how to explain it all. Not to the innocent Prices, sitting snugly and picture-perfect on the couch. Disease-free, unaware of the world outside their delightfully geometric state of Utah. He used small words. Explained it all as calmly as possible. And made his rounds, hugging his mother and father and sister and brothers as they sobbed for his unforeseeable future. Lying through his teeth, he assured them with feigned confidence that he would be fine. He explained that he would be on medication and receiving treatment and he would probably live to see one hundred years. Mr. Price was the first to come to his senses, nodding in agreement, murmuring on about articles he had read in Newsweek about the advances in medicine. Mrs. Price was the next to breathe a sigh of relief, quavering but in better spirits. Then came Jack and Kait and Kyle and Josh, all settling their nerves surprisingly easily. 

In no time at all, they were all on to the next thing. The twins collaborated on homework at the table. Kait headed out for a group date with friends. Jack hassled Kevin with the Parcheesi board for a good half hour before his older brother gave in. Mr. Price sat in his chair, thumbing through some conservative newspaper or another. Mrs. Price happily worked over a hot stove in the kitchen until a quarter to six, when she announced in gentle sing-song that dinner was ready. And the Prices sat down at their usual seats around the dining room table, where they thanked Heavenly Father for blessing them with this and that. 

And especially, Jack was sure to add, for keeping watch over Kevin.


	4. Chapter 4

The hell dreams almost never phased him anymore. They were as much a part of Kevin’s nightly routine as brushing and flossing. He knew, without fail, that as soon as he closed his eyes and began to doze off, he would be subject to another nightmare.

It was disturbingly alien when he awoke in the middle of the night, not to a start but rather a sensation. A sensation that tingled in his core and found himself moaning under his breath. Moaning a name.

Kevin carried himself in a hurry to the bathroom, flipped on the light, and took a good look at himself in the mirror. His eyes were wide. Perspiration dripped from his brow. His cheeks, his forehead, his ears were all a deep red. And a nagging tightness was only growing down the front of his garments.

He needed a shower.

The water was freezing. It took him a good few minutes just to muster up enough courage to step inside. His back tensed and he groaned through his teeth when the water began licking at his back. He could almost see the steam rising from his flushed shoulders. His hands filled with water that he splashed desperately into his face. And again. And again, for good measure. Then he gave another shivering sigh. And glanced down to his still straining erection.

Awkwardly, he gave an annoyed nudge to its head, wishing it would stop fooling around and just go back down again. But his icy fingertips sent a chill through his body, and he couldn’t stop himself from uttering a low moan of approval.

"N-no…“ He pulled his hand away quickly, snapping his eyes closed. This was wrong. This was breaking chastity. This was… really amazing. With a shaking free hand, he turned the water’s temperature up. Warm, rapturous rain kissed at his neck and chest as he inched further under the shower head. His head craned down to lean against the tiled wall. To get a better view of his hand hesitantly touching himself. His fingers ran the length of his cock, and he smiled at the sheer pleasure. Gosh, this was nice. This was really nice.

Slowly but surely, his arm developed a rhythm, jerky and inexperienced though it was. His eyes fluttered closed, and he was left to fantasize with his naive imagination.

Connor was on his knees. In his missionary uniform. Bobbing his head back and forth. Moaning in the back of his throat. Kevin’s hands grabbed desperately for a fistful of brilliantly red hair. His hips jerked against the other’s movements, wanting nothing more than to push deep and deeper into the district leader’s mouth. He was already so close–his teeth bit down onto his lip to keep from letting his guard down. But Connor was so good at what he did, and he was all Kevin could think about. His hair. His eyes. His body. His mouth…

Something stirred inside him. And he felt a clench in his tummy.

“Ah… Connor!”

He found himself hunched over, with the boiling water running down his pathetically shuddering shoulders. His sin–his wonderfully unlawful first orgasm–radiated in his core. It took a few moments for him to catch his breath, in the heat of the afterglow and the thick steam of the bathroom combined. And when he finally did, it still took him a good couple minutes to finally pull himself up and out of the shower. A trembling hand turned the water off. He sat on the toilet seat in a towel until the vapor dissipated. Then he pulled his garments back on, and was about to flick off the light and head back to bed when his eye caught a glimpse of his reflection. The blush on his cheeks was still deep, almost glowing, and all from a sinful, spur of the moment self-indulgence. Further, a self-indulgence inspired by Connor McKinley. A _man_.

Kevin ran a hand through his dripping wet hair and sighed, sick to his stomach. There was no way he could call Connor now. There was no way he could ever see him again, period.

 

—

 

“I didn’t think you were gonna call, to be honest.” Connor McKinley chuckled. Kevin gave a nervous laugh and nodded.

“Yeah, well…” His finger curled around the phone cord habitually. “It’s been kind of… lonely around here. I figured it’d be nice to be around someone I can talk to.” The redhead made a noise on the other line, something short and satisfied, a grateful sigh. He clucked his tongue in thought as he tapped his finger against the receiver.

“So what did you have in mind?” Kevin swallowed hard. A lot of things, actually…

“What do you mean?”

“Where do you wanna go, silly?” He could hear it in Connor’s voice–how genuinely amused he was with Kevin’s sheer cluelessness. That tiresome blush grew across his cheeks again and he wanted to slink away in humiliation.

“I don’t really… go out much.”

“Oh.” Connor tried his best to sound surprised.

“You’re the college kid–don’t you go out to places with friends a lot?”

“Well, yeah.” He took a moment to laugh under his breath. “But I don’t think you’d be very interested in going to a place like _that_.” Kevin scoffed hard, to show just how up to the task he was.

“I really don’t care where we go. I just want more time to catch up with you.” He smiled.

“That sounds perfect.” Connor smiled back. “I think I have somewhere in mind.”


	5. Chapter 5

Kevin was a shaking mess in the midst of everything. The bar he so cluelessly agreed to fumble into was dark, smelling of stale cigarettes and a slew of noxious alcoholic beverages. He felt sick, and the recently-popped AZT sticking in his throat only made him more nauseous.

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. Nothing was worth braving this mess of sex and corruption and sin–not even Connor McKinley. In a hurry, just as soon as he had stepped into the bar, he slipped his jacket back on to scurry out. A gentle hand on his shoulder caught him from escaping, and he half sighed, half gasped. _It was about time, Connor._

"Thank gosh. I didn’t think you were coming.“ He turned on his heels. And had to crane his head back in order to get a proper look at the stranger. Hefty, tanned, raising an interested eyebrow and licking his bottom teeth.

"Not unless you let me take you home.” He purred.

"E- _excuse_ me?“

"Can I buy you a drink?”

A softer, much more gentle hand tapped Kevin’s shoulder. He glanced nervously out the corner of his eye, and let out a long sigh of relief at the sight of that lovely red hair.

"Sorry, he’s with me.“ Connor gave a smug smile as he took Kevin by the arm. The stranger seemed to deflate, confidence hissing out his nose as he retreated to the other end of the bar.

"I’m not _gay_ , either!” Kevin called back with unnecessary gusto. Many a sour glance shot his way. Connor couldn’t hold back a giggle.

"Goodness, Kevin, you’re here for a few minutes and you’ve already got people chasing your tail.“ He sat down at the bar and patted the stool next to him for Kevin. "What’s your secret?” Was he… _flirting?_

"I guess when you’re this good looking, you don’t even have to try.“ And was Kevin flirting _back?_ The redhead chuckled deep in his throat, chin rested dreamily on folded hands.

"Obviously.” Then he snapped to attention when the bartender finally made his way round. He drummed his fingers against his bottom lip as he considered his options, before running off a long specification of liquor. Then he turned to the brunette. “Can I get you something, Kev?”

"Uh… just a water, I guess.“ Connor huffed.

"This is our night out, Kevin. _Carpe diem_ , right?” He raised his glass, a mess of pink fruity rubbing alcohol. The boy’s face twisted into a grimace.

"Uh… I _guess_ …“ He turned to the bartender. "Can I get a… Shirley Temple? Please?” The man seemed surprised, almost offended, but with a roll of his eyes he set to mixing the petty drink. Connor smiled, wide and genuine, as Kevin sipped away at the tall glass of red.

"You’re sweet.“ He cooed. The brunette popped a cherry into his mouth and grinned.

"How come?”

"You care a lot about your religion. You wouldn’t let me buy you a drink.“ He scooped up a fingerful of salt and licked it off, just a little too slowly. "I think that’s really sweet.” Kevin watched the other’s tongue with an open mouth and blushing face. Then he cleared his throat.

"Well… thanks.” He stirred the drink with his straw idly. “But, to be honest… I’m not as great of a Mormon as I used to be.” Connor almost leaned in at the mention, an eyebrow cocked in interest.

" _Oh?_ “ He giggled. "And here I thought you were the next Joseph Smith, what with all your coffee drinking and swearing.” Kevin rolled his eyes.

"Gosh, you can at least humor me a _little_.“

"You know I’m joking.” Kevin gave a slight “hurumph” of disbelief. Connor’s smile faltered. Without hesitation, he slid a consoling hand onto the other’s knee. The brunette felt ready to melt. “You don’t seem like yourself, Kev.“ That’s because I’m dying.

"I know.” He forced his eyes off Connor’s squeezing hand. “I think I’m still just… getting used to everything. Like culture shock, you know?” He took a huge sip of his drink to shut himself up, before he told anymore lies. Connor nodded sympathetically.

"We went through a lot in those two years. You especially.“ The redhead’s hand just slightly inched its way up Kevin’s thigh. He could feel the blood beginning to rush down when the boy’s hand recoiled, just as quickly. Idly, he gave a nod.

"Y… yeah…” He could feel the people across the bar watching. Talking. Probably guessing how much longer they were going to sit and flirt before one took the other home. Kevin was beet red at just the thought.

"What’s wrong?“ Connor gave the boy’s knee another squeeze. He swallowed hard. "Oh… oh my god, I’m so sorry!” In an instant, the redhead pulled his hand away and blushed. “I’m making you uncomfortable, aren’t I? I’m so sorry.”

"No, it’s fine.“

"I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable…”

"You didn’t.“ Then he stood up. "But, uh… I probably should be going soon.” He checked his watch busily. Connor visibly deflated.

"But I just got here.“ He tapped at his cocktail, not even half finished. Kevin shrugged and tried a forced smile.

"And it’s only eleven-thirty. And look at all the… cute guys you can talk to. You don’t need me.”

"But I came here to see _you_!“ Connor grabbed the taller boy’s hand and pulled him back onto the barstool. He didn’t let go. "I’m nervous about you, Kevin. I’ve been wondering about you every day for the past _year_.” Something leapt in Kevin’s chest–something he could only describe as his heart skipping a beat, cheesy as it sounded. He swallowed hard as he wiggled his fingers under the other’s grasp. Barely putting up a fight.

"…you _have_?“ His voice cracked in genuine disbelief. Connor nodded.

"I just want to talk.” His pale eyes shot around the bar, at all the people who watched them with eager glances, and then to Kevin’s nervous fidgeting. “We don’t even have to stay here. We can go back to my place.” This didn’t do much to ease the boy’s anxiety.

"Are… are you sure that’s okay?“

"My roommate’s out for the night. It’ll be just the two of us. Okay?” Connor finally stood, offering Kevin his hand back. He was almost sad to part ways from his grip.

—

The air was sticking and heavy in the cramped two-room apartment, even with two fans whizzing away in the corners of the makeshift living room. The two of them sat on the rug with cups of hot tea they immediately regretted making, but sipped at idly nonetheless. Connor clinked his teaspoon against the ceramic as he stirred in his honey. Constantly apologizing that he didn’t have any coffee to offer his guest, that he and Nick weren’t really “coffee people”. Kevin would nod and assure him tea was fine, though he did little more with it besides play with the tag on the tea bag. The silence was thick with tension, whatever tension they decided was mutual, until Connor cleared his throat.

"So.“ Nothing more came out. He didn’t exactly know what he was getting at. Kevin gave a small smile.

"So.” He went to take a small sip of tea, but rethought at the last second. “It feels like we’re back in Uganda, doesn’t it?”

"Because of the heat?“ Connor huffed as he desperately fanned himself with a limp hand. The brunette laughed.

"Well, the heat is certainly helping.” With a shaking hand, he unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. “Remember when we couldn’t sleep that one night in the mission hut? Because it was so hot?” Connor’s face brightened.

"God, how could I forget? I think that was the most fun I ever had on our mission.“

"It was?”

"Three games of Chinese checkers, and you cheating every single time.“ He chuckled fondly. Kevin felt the blood flush against his cheeks. His chin stuck out proudly, that cocky glint finally returning to his eyes.

"I didn’t cheat the last game. I won fair and square.” Connor’s posture straightened. He moved to close in on the other boy, so their noses were almost touching. And he smiled.

"That’s because I let you win.“ His eyes drifted down to Kevin’s lips. ” _Elder_.“

The tension thickened. It was silently decided that it had taken on a sexual connotation. That heat–that foreign, nagging heat and excruciating tightness–began to grow down the front of Kevin’s pants. And Connor was only getting closer.

"You wanna know another secret, Kevin?” His hand rested on the boy’s knee, to test the waters. He swallowed hard, but seemed to only lean into the touch.

"Y… _yeah_?“ Their breaths were heavy and hot. Connor pulled Kevin in to whisper in his ear. The brunette shivered under each breath.

"I’ve always wanted to _fuck_ you.”


	6. Chapter 6

Kevin didn’t really understand romance. Or lust. Or whatever this could be considered. He didn’t understand how a playful talk of Chinese checkers could escalate so quickly, so passionately. Or how he could find himself straddling a former Mormon missionary, sucking hard on the soft skin of his neck as if he were an expert at all things… _sexual_.

Connor let out little gasps beneath him, grasping hard at the shirt on his back as if he were to tear it off, and Kevin didn’t understand how he could persuade those noises or those feelings out of another person. Even if he _was_ Kevin Price. This was all so surreal. So surreal and so, _so_ warranted.

Connor reached up to unbutton the last of Kevin’s shirt, and the brunette wriggled out of it in haste. Then he set to the fly of his khakis–first pulling the belt off and then snapping the waist down to Kevin’s ankles. There he sat, practically naked and very self conscious atop the redhead with his straining hardness begging for attention against his temple garments. Connor gave a small laugh through his nose. The other boy slumped over to cover his body, now very, very self conscious.

“ _What?_ ” He barely had enough chutzpah left to demand an answer, simply asking out of plain fear. Connor’s eyebrows furrowed as he continued to laugh. His hands rubbed either of the boy’s hips to soothe him.

“Nothing, sweetie.” A finger snapped the waistband of his shorts playfully. “I just didn’t expect you to… still be wearing these.” Kevin pursed his lips.

“Why not? I’m a… _Mormon_.” His hands wrung the hem of his undershirt as he studied the other boy up and down. Connor raised an eyebrow. As if challenging him. As if to say, “oh really, Kevin Price?” in that dominant voice of his. With a huff, the brunette tore off his undershirt to proudly exhibit his bare chest. He could almost feel the redhead gasp in awe under him–Kevin’s cock twitched with ego-induced pleasure. Connor’s hands moved slowly and lovingly along the other’s skin. Up and down along his ribcage, in the scoops of his hip bones, along his back all the way down under the waistband of his garments. Kevin yelped when he felt the boy’s fingers grabbing hard at his rump. Wide blue eyes darted down to look at Connor, who nodded calmly in response. A hand rested on Kevin’s shoulder to lower him down. He settled awkwardly onto the boy’s soft tummy with his ass in the air, feeling stupid and innocent and vulnerable and unsure of everything. He closed his eyes to prepare for whatever was coming–he could hear Connor sucking away at one of his fingers in shoddy preparation. And a second later, he felt the wetness against his opening and he clenched.

" _Relax._ “

"Is it gonna _hurt_?”

"Not if you relax.“

"Are you _sure_?”

"I’ve done this before, hon.“ Connor’s lips pecked sweetly against Kevin’s. "You’re safe.”

The brunette tried with all his might to calm down. A few deep breaths with the other soothingly running his fingers through his hair, and he finally gave a nod.

He gasped hard and gave out a cry when he felt Connor ease into him. The redhead stopped immediately, rushing up to meet his lips again, whispering softly against his mouth.

"It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here, Kev. I promise I won’t hurt you.“ Kevin gave a small whimper and bared his teeth as Connor carried on. He thought he would like this. A late night google search had him thinking this was enjoyable, that when the time came he would be in heaven. But this was terrifying. All it did was call up those past memories he tried to desperately to suppress. Of the book and the warlord and the ten hours sobbing on the hospital bed. This was… this was… oh.

Oh. Gosh.

Oh my…

"Oh… my _God_ , Connor…”

The brunette was suddenly shaking uncontrollably, drooling like the pathetic virgin he was onto Connor’s chest. He ground his hips back against every one of the boy’s motions. Wailing and panting. Wanting more and more of him. He was right. This was heaven.

"Con… Connor…“ It was, without the least bit of dignity, a full out plea. And the boy knew the sound of a plea when he heard one.

Connor pulled himself out in an instant and snuck his way excitedly over to the bed. The brunette was left to writhe on the floor, feverishly palming himself through his shorts until the other returned with protection.

"So,” He hummed, hands working in the dark to roll on a condom, “What’ll it be?” Kevin swallowed hard. It took all his might to keep his eyes from creeping down to the other’s penis, either too nervous or too intimidated to give it more than a glance.

"What do you mean?“ His voice cracked anxiously.

"Like, what position.” Kevin could only give a confused, slightly horrified look. The redhead clicked his tongue with a hint of patronizing pity. “You know what, never mind. Just leave it to me. We’ll take it slow, okay?” The palms of his hands rubbed tenderly against Kevin’s back as he slowly led him onto his hip bones. A rush surged down his spine when Connor’s stout hardness pushed against him through his garments. Not to seem too excited, he took his time slowly peeling down his shorts. The redhead beneath him gave a satisfied moan of approval when Kevin’s cock sprang from the confines of his underwear. All too quickly, he leaned forward, hunched over to hungrily lap at the head of his penis–the brunette squealed in surprise.

"I thought we were just gonna–“

"I know, I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.” Connor gave a long lick up the other’s length. “I’ve wanted to suck your cock for three years.” With surprising gusto, he forced Kevin’s entire erection down his throat, circling his tongue round his head and lightly grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin. Kevin held his breath. He already seemed ready to burst.

"Uh… C-Connor…?“

He only gave a hum in response. Obviously more involved in the task at hand. Kevin tried again. "Connor, you should probably… _ah_!” He was using his hands now. His fingers gently rubbed the wonderfully soft spot between his front and back, and Kevin gave out a coo of delight at the slightest form of contact. Now he was practically heaving breaths out of a gaping, slobbering mouth as he thrusted his hips, practically fucking Connor’s throat. That new and delightful clench found its way up his length, and with his remaining strength he pulled himself out to come embarrassingly early all over Connor’s face, all while calling out “Elder McKinley” at the top of his lungs.

He opened one eye. And then the other. Hesitantly, he glanced down to the redhead, who gave a grateful smile as he combed the semen out of his hair.

"Oh my gosh. I… I’m so sorry!“ Kevin could barely cough it out. Connor shook his head carelessly.

"Don’t be sorry!” He popped a sticky finger in his mouth just to show his gratitude. “I was trying to make you come.”

"But I didn’t warn you or–“

"It’s no big deal, Kev, honestly! I actually kind of…” He licked the corner of his mouth–a hand idly stroked his cock as he looked Kevin straight in the eyes. “I like your cum.” The brunette swallowed hard.

"You… you _do_?“ Suddenly Connor blushed hard, and he hid his face behind his hands in embarrassment.

"God, I’m sorry. That was gross.”

"No it wasn’t!“

"Yes it was!” He fanned his suddenly beet red face with both hands. “I’m so sorry, I’ve only been with a couple other people and none of them really meant anything and I’m just so nervous I want to impress you and I’m doing a terrible job at it I’m so sor–”

Connor gave a yelp when he felt Kevin’s warm lips against his own. And he gave another when he felt the boy’s tongue fumble awkwardly into his mouth, licking at his teeth and lapping up the taste of his own cum. All such taboos for a meek Kevin Price. Connor’s cock twitched in excitement, and the taller one grabbed hold of it and began pumping it hard without a second thought.

"You’re pretty good at this…“ The redhead puffed in genuine surprise. Kevin chuckled.

"I’ve been practicing.” He rolled the condom off without missing a beat. His fingers were tight around Connor’s hardness, and he used his thumb to expertly rub at the scarred skin just below his flushed head. The redhead groaned.

"You’re… _really_ good at this.“

Kevin nodded confidently. "I know.”

Connor scoffed. “You asshole.” And then he bared his teeth. “F… fuck. Fuck, I’m already…” His hips pounded against the brunette’s fist in desperate need for instant gratification. But it couldn’t be that easy.

Connor whined when he pulled away his hand, only to whine louder when he felt the warm wetness of Kevin Price’s mouth around his cock. The Mormon boy, with all of his naïveté and the experience of a teenage closet case, could only awkwardly bob his head, sucking on the redhead’s penis like it was a lollipop. He tried everything in his power not to laugh, but Kevin must have realized something was wrong when he barely received a moan from Connor.

"Am I not good at this?“ He rubbed at his lips with the back of his hand.

"What… makes you say that?”

"You’re not really responding…“

"I was just…”

"You can tell me if I’m not good. I mean, I haven’t done anything like this before. I think I can take some criticism.“

Connor sat up, a warm hand reached out to run through Kevin’s hair.

"It’s not that you’re… bad at it, hon.” He placed a peck on the other’s forehead as a half-assed consolation. “You’re just a little… inexperienced. It’s okay. You should have seen how bad I was the first time I blew someone.” Kevin’s face pinched into a frown.

"I’d rather not think about all the other people you’ve slept with while I’m trying to suck you off.“

"Right.” Connor’s lips pursed tightly together in a snap. “I’m sorry. That was stu–” The brunette rolled his eyes. One of his hands, slick from lubrication, clamped over the redhead’s mouth. He yelped in surprise.

"Why don’t you just shut up and let me make you come, okay?“ Kevin just barely whispered into the other’s ear. He gave a small nod. And he leaned back to let the brunette do his work.

Kevin went back to square one, his tight fist balled around the boy’s thick cock, pumping it up and down excruciating too slow. But now his other hand roamed back, to that same soft spot Connor had paid special attention to before. The redhead hummed in delight at the new touch. His hips picked up speed against Kevin’s fist, his legs spreading habitually. The brunette smiled. Virgin or not, he knew what Connor wanted. With his cocky grin permanently plastered to his face, he shoved a finger up into the redhead, who gave a scream of delight.

”More.“ He instantly begged.

Kevin obeyed.

" _Faster_ …”

Kevin obeyed.

"H- _harder_ …“

He could feel Connor beginning to clench. The idea of making someone else come sent a surge through Kevin’s body. Both of his arms were working at full capacity, obeying every one of the redhead’s hungry demands, just waiting for the moment when his work would pay off. And his thanks came hard, in the form of a powerful ejaculation and a panting call of "Kevin Price” as Connor drained his energy into the other’s hand.

The redhead collapsed onto the floor and brought his partner down with him. He peppered Kevin with kisses up and down his neck, again and again on his lips, hugging him round the neck and nuzzling his face against the other’s. Between breaths and between his sloppy pecks he whispered thanks and little scraps of praise that forced a smile onto Kevin’s face. They had done it. After years of fantasizing and wishing and wanting, they had done it. Maybe not as they had always planned–there were no white shirts or ties, or romantic sweet nothings or rose petals. There was only a crappy throw rug, and a wail of an ambulance somewhere outside, and the persistent buzzing of the two fans in the corners of the makeshift living room. And there were the two of them, breathing softly in each other’s arms, nodding off to sleep on the floor in a state they could only describe as rapturous bliss and total satisfaction.

Happiness.

They were happy.


	7. Chapter 7

"Where in Heavenly Father’s name have you _been_ all night, Kevin?“ Mr. Price was waiting behind the door, arms crossed, newspaper folded neatly in his right hand.

His son squeezed his way into the living room, where the rest of the Prices were waiting with matched concern. He waved to them all with a sprightly twitch of the wrist.

"I’m sorry about that, Dad. I meant to call, but it was so late and I didn’t want to wake you guys.”

"Where _were_ you?“ Mrs. Price tried again.

"I actually ran into an old missionary from my district.” This didn’t do much to ease the Prices.

"Don’t tell me it was that kooky companion of yours. Heaven knows the last thing you need is to get excommunicated again.“ Mr. Price harumphed. The rest of the living room nodded in agreement. Kevin had to bare his teeth to keep from lashing out.

"Elder Cunningham’s still in Uganda, Dad. I told you that.” Mr. Price settled into his chair and snapped up his newspaper.

"Good. That’s where he belongs, with the rest of those savages.“ The family’s eyes went from their father to their brother. They swallowed hard in the tension, and prayed to Heavenly Father that they weren’t becoming one of those families on cable television. The kind that yelled and split and depended on a counselor to bring them together again. Kevin pushed back his hair. Gave a long sigh. And the red slowly diminished from his cheeks.

"The missionary I ran into was actually the district leader for our area.”

"Well, he did a fine job at leading you boys, didn’t he?“ Mr. Price muttered. His wife, sallow and hesitant, reached to rest a hand on Kevin’s knee.

"What’s his name, sweetie?” The brunette gave a small smile. The mere thought of his name brought that blush back to Kevin’s cheeks–it was enough to distract him from his scowling father in the corner.

"Elder McKinley. _Connor_ , actually.“ Mr. Price’s face was already twisting further into a scowl. His son was quick to allay his fears with a little white lie. "He’s still part of the church, Dad, don’t worry. He just couldn’t continue as an Elder because he’s in _school_ now.” Arnold would be proud.

"Oh, a college student!” Mrs. Price’s face lit up at the news. “What’s his major?“

Kevin pursed his lips.

"B… business.”

Mr. Price paused short. Slowly, and ever so painfully, he folded his newspaper up. Leaned back in his chair. And gave a long sigh.

"And he’s still part of the church?“ He peered over the wire rims of his glasses. Kevin nodded with gusto.

"He couldn’t dream of a life without it. He wrote a letter… to… Thomas Monson, actually. Imploring to be welcomed back into the church.” Kait dropped the book she was reading, her mouth agape. Her other siblings were equally as shocked.

"No way.“ She gasped. "And he wrote _back_?” Kevin gave an all too cocky nod. The rest of the family cooed in awe–Mr. Price was uncharacteristically impressed. He gave an honest smile, even a small chuckle, before he unfolded his paper.

"Well, he sounds like a fine boy, son. Almost as good of a Mormon as yourself.“ Mrs. Price nodded in agreement.

"You should bring him over sometime. We always have extra room at the table for Thursday nights!”

 

—

 

"How do you feel about Family Home Evening?“

Connor could only laugh.

"I never thought I’d hear those words again. Not even in Utah.” He turned back to the counter to hand over his boyfriend’s order. Kevin didn’t pick it up.

"Because we’ve been dating for, like…“

"A month.” Connor reminded him with narrowed eyes.

"A month, I know.“ He took a sip of his coffee to seem less anxious than he really was. "And in that month, all we’ve been doing is going to your place.” Connor gave him a look of genuine confusion.

"You… wanna have sex at _your_ house?“ An honest and concerned question. Kevin couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

"Why does everything have to be about _sex_ with you?” He muttered under his breath. His boyfriend was taken aback, sputtering in disbelief.

"With _me_? Who was the one who insisted I take off for lunch early yesterday because he just _had_ to get his dick sucked?“ He pulled off his hat to heatedly tussle his hair. "And considering your need to stay miserable and closeted, we're kind of forced to stay in. Because God forbid someone see you holding hands with a boy. What else are we gonna do cooped up in an apartment all night, play fucking _Monopoly_?!” He turned to busily clean out the espresso machine. Kevin leaned over the counter, grabbing the redhead by his apron and pulling him back.

"That’s what I’m _saying_ , though! Family Home Evening!“ His eyes glinted with too much excitement for Connor’s taste.

"No.” It wasn't up for debate. Kevin begged to differ.

“Come on, why not?”

“I left the church for a reason, Kev.”

“You were excommunicated.”

Connor slammed his hands onto the counter. His eyes were mere slits as he stared his boyfriend down, his patience wearing thin.

“The _point_ is, I didn’t _belong_ as part of the church. I was miserable. Why would I want to go back to _any_ of that?” Kevin reached to grab his boyfriend’s hand.

“Because I’m asking you to. I talked you up to my family and they want to meet you. I want them to meet you. You’re an important part of my life.” The redhead was at a loss for words. He glanced down to his hand, squeezed tight between Kevin’s fingers, and gave a small sigh. His boyfriend could feel him cracking. “You’ll just be over for a couple hours. We’ll have dinner, play a game, read scripture–” Connor audibly groaned.

“ _Scripture?_ ”

The brunette’s eyes pleaded desperately.

“Connor, _please_. Just go along with it for a night.”

“I spent years finding out who I was, Kevin. _Years_. And now you want me to forget any of it ever happened?” Kevin shook his head furiously.

“No! Not at all!” He took a short look around before leaning over to kiss Connor on the cheek. The redhead couldn't help but melt. “I’m going to tell them. About everything. They're just… they're not going to see you in the same light if they know you’re… or that we're…” The word still didn't come out. “Boyfriend” sounded so nice in theory, but in practice… it was a stubborn couple syllables to coax out. Connor gave a small smile.

“Fine.”

“Really?!”

“Yes. I’ll go.” He held up a finger of protest. “But I refuse to play Chinese Checkers with you again.”


	8. Chapter 8

“You almost look heterosexual.” Kevin leaned back and smiled in admiration. The redhead turned back to the mirror to straighten his collar. His shoulders slumped.

“I don’t know, ya think?” He tucked in half of his polo. “I feel like the khakis are trying too hard to be straight. In or out?” He swiveled back to the brunette for his opinion.

“Tucked in. And the khakis are perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“They’re not nearly as tight as your jeans, that’s for sure.” Connor laughed through his nose. Swinging his hips, he sauntered over to sit on Kevin’s lap. His lips just grazed the other’s earlobe.

“But last time I checked, you _loved_ how tight my jeans are.” Kevin’s cheeks glowed when he felt the other’s breath on his neck. Only for a second did he give in before he pulled back and laughed.

"We can’t, Con. We have to be there in half an hour.“ The redhead didn’t let up. His teeth nipped just enough at Kevin’s neck to illicit a moan. His hand slowly slid up the boy’s thigh. Kevin chuckled again, more heated than the first. "Connor, stop.”

"I’ll be quick.“ He paused from undoing the brunette’s belt. "Or, rather… _you’ll_ be quick.” Kevin rolled his eyes, squirming his hips to shimmy out of his pants. His boyfriend was already lowering himself down onto his knees. With a small sigh, he leaned back.

"F… fine.“ He checked his wristwatch. "But don’t take longer than ten minutes, okay?”

"Don’t worry. You won’t.“

—

The Price house, even with its picket fence and blooming petunias, had never seemed so menacing. They were only steps away from the front door. And now, one step less. And another.

Connor swallowed hard. Kevin turned to give him a reassuring smile.

"It’s okay. They’re really harmless, I swear.” They were on the steps now. Connor slowly backed away and released Kevin’s hand that he had so desperately been clinging to. The brunette rang the doorbell. The chime echoed somewhere in the house. Connor laughed.

"I’ll never escape that sound, will I?“ Kevin smiled.

"I’ll knock next time.”

The door swung open to a full living room; Kyle beamed in the entrance and rushed to give his big brother a hug.

"Kevin’s home!“ He proclaimed, and in unison the entire family stood to greet him. First it was Josh, who offered his brother a high five. Then Kait, who hugged him tight and mussed his hair. And then Jack, who merely stood and nonchalantly waved from the far end of the room. Kevin made a face and reciprocated.

"You must be Connor.” Mrs. Price helped the redhead into the living room. “We’ve heard so much about you from Kevin here.” Connor blushed.

"Likewise, ma'am.“ He smiled. Then he noticed the stern fatherly figure in the corner. With all his courage mustered somewhere deep in his throat, he approached. "And you must be Mr. Price! Goodness, I sure can see the family resemblance!” He stuck out a strong hand, and Mr. Price gratefully gave a shake.

"How are you, son?“ His voice was surprisingly lighthearted as he chuckled. Connor beamed.

"I’m just wonderful, sir–thank you so much for having me.”

"The pleasure’s all ours, Connor.“ Mrs. Price chimed in from over her husband’s shoulder. The rest of the living room contributed a bout of cheesy laughter. When it subsided, Mr. Price gestured to the sofa and insisted Connor take a seat. He complied happily.

"Kevin, why don’t you introduce all of your siblings to Connor while I finish up supper?” Mrs. Price called from the kitchen. Her oldest son snapped to attention, and was about to obey when the redhead shook his head.

"No, no. I think I can guess, actually.“ He pointed first to the shortest of the boys. "You’re Josh, and you’re Kyle,” he pointed next to his blonde twin. “And this is Kait, of course.” He gave an oddly flirtatious smile to the blonde girl beside him, who giggled into her hands. “And you must be Jack.”

A shorter, much more pouty version of Kevin sat hunched in a corner of the room. He raised his eyebrows in uninterested surprise.

"Kevin must talk about us a lot, huh?“ He shifted to lean forward. A grin just tugged at his lips. "Either that or you guys just spend a lot of time together.” Connor gave a cool smile.

"Oh, he talks about you folks all the time. Practically all he talked about on our mission was how much he missed you all.“ Kait seemed touched, clicking her tongue like a sympathetic mother. Mr. Price gave a hum, seemingly satisfied.

"Now, Connor, Kevin tells me you were actually district leader of your mission.” The redhead nodded shortly, happily.

"That’s correct, sir.“

"Gosh,” Kait cooed. “How do you manage to land that?” Her eyelids drooped with a contented sigh, all too much like Kevin’s. Connor cleared his throat.

"Uh…“ And scooched a bit away from her. "Well… I was the top of my class back at the MTC. I had done some mission work in my area for a year before I signed up for an overseas assignment. The mission president thought, since I was the oldest of the new bunch sent to District Nine, I would be most suitable for the position.”

"And now you’re going to school?“ Kait took back what inches Connor had added.

"Y-yeah. I’m double majoring in…” He closed his eyes for just a moment. Going over what Kevin had said on the walk over. “…majoring in business and finance.”

"At Utah State?“

"Yessir!” That, he could say with full confidence. Mr. Price leaned back, his shoulders easing and a smile growing across his worn face. He slapped a hand on his armrest with gusto.

"Excellent choice, son! Excellent choice!“ An excited hand gestured to his wife in the kitchen. “Joann and I met at Utah State.”

“Is that so?”

Mr. Price nodded again.

“Lots of beautiful young women there.” Kait tossed her hair about with a slight grumble.

“You have a girlfriend, Connor? Because I’m always looking for a nice missionary to settle down with.” She laughed, long and hard and uncomfortably loud. Judging by Kevin’s wincing across the room, she was barely joking. Connor chuckled. He could feel the sweat forming on his brow.

“I think he’s a little too old for you, Kait.” Kevin grumbled. Her bright eyes shot like daggers across to her brother. But then she eased up and smiled wide.

“Oh, Kevin, I was just _joking_.” She leaned in to just whisper in Connor’s ear. “But I _am_ turning nineteen next month.”

—

“Parcheesi!” Jack announced. The rest of the room gave a unanimous groan.

“We play Parcheesi every week, Jack.” Kait grabbed the box from her brother with a hopeless sigh. “Why don’t we play something _new_?”

“Why don’t we play Trouble?”

“Trouble is basically Parcheesi.”

“Sorry?”

“Also Parcheesi.”

Mrs. Price interrupted with an anxious wave of her hands.

“Why don’t we let Connor choose? He’s our guest, after all.” She opened the drawer of board games, stored under their modest television. The rest of the room waited as Connor shuffled over and perused the Prices’ extensive assortment of board games. Hi-Ho Cherry O, Don’t Wake Daddy, Chutes and Ladders, _Chinese Checkers…_

“How about…” With hands shaking under pounds of pressure, Connor pulled the first game he saw and showed it to the family, who “ooooh”d with glee. Kait bounded up to grab it and begin setting it up on the coffee table. A spinner. Little plastic cars in primary and secondary colors. A pile of cards. Connor smiled. The Game of Life. Simple enough. He sat himself down between Kyle and Josh, across from a blushing Kevin Price.

“Alright, who wants what color?” Kait sat at the head of the table to properly and professionally distribute the game pieces. Kevin snatched up the blue piece, apparently same as always. Mrs. Price was grateful for her purple minivan; Mr. Price was content with yellow; the twins piled into the orange car but were told sternly to use one blue peg for the both of them, to avoid misunderstanding. Kait gave a suspicious side eye to Connor, reaching across for the pink car, and grabbed it for herself. And he settled for the red.

The game lagged alone with little to no excitement, like it was more something they were required to partake in than something they voluntarily enjoyed. The highlight was a smidge of a second, when Connor fortunately drew the "You got married!” card, and his fingers just barely plucked up another blue peg before Jack’s unsavory glare drew him to a more socially attractive pink. But otherwise, game night was lifeless, and the whole living room gave such a grateful hum at the sound of the oven timer, when they could leave the coffee table without offense.

Dinner was bland. Casserole. Collard greens. Milk. Mormon food. The Prices all encouraged Connor to say some words beforehand, and he muttered something vaguely religious before the family was satisfied and set to eating away. Mr. Price gave words of encouragement to his lovely wife, who had prepared another “extraordinary dinner”–the rest of the table agreed with full mouths and murmurs of appreciation. Connor politely asked Jack to please pass the pepper–he merely stared in response. Kevin eventually rolled his eyes and handed over the shaker, and their fingertips grazed a second too long to call up embarrassing blushes on both their faces. Jack watched with narrowed eyes. He dropped his fork loudly onto his plate. The two jumped in surprise, and the pepper spilled across the floral tablecloth.

“I’m so sorry.” Connor scrambled to shovel the mess into his hands. Mrs. Price got up and insisted she be the one to clean. Jack leaned back in his seat with his arms folded tight across his chest. Staring down Connor with intent.

“Butterfingers, huh?” He taunted. The redhead chuckled.

“Always been a problem for me.” He shrugged helplessly. Jack smiled a wide and very ingenuine smile. Then he wiped his mouth with his napkin and cleared his throat before turning to his father.

“You know what I think we should do now? Why don’t we go around the table and tell what we all did today?” Mr. Price clapped his hands together with delight.

“That’s an excellent idea, son.” He placed his napkin on the table beside his plate. “Why don’t we start with you?”

“Actually,” Jack’s glare intensified across the table, “I thought Connor should go first.” The rest of the table nodded in agreement, save Kevin, who seemed to be sinking further into his chair by the minute. Connor McKinley’s mouth grew dry. He felt sick to his stomach. Jack knew something.

“I, uh… I didn’t do much of anything today, actually.” He simply coughed out. The younger Price smiled all too knowingly.

“Don’t you work on Thursdays? Somewhere down near the Temple?” Jack turned to his older brother to playfully nudge at him with his elbow. “Isn’t that where you go all the time? To visit your friend at work?” Kevin’s hands balled tightly on the tabletop, his eyes blurring with shameful tears.

“Jack.” He warned.

Mrs. Price leaned forward in interest.

“You do volunteer work down by Temple Square?” She seemed touched. But Jack shook his head with a grumble.

“No, he works at some store.” He placed a finger on his lip in thought. His voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I just can’t remember _where_ now.” Kevin’s face was bright red, as was Connor’s. They both silently pleaded to the boy, hoping that somehow he would decide to keep his mouth shut, to say no more.

“Jack, I don’t think my day was all that interesting. Why don’t we ask the twins what they were up to?” He gestured wildly to the boys beside him, who were much more absorbed in whatever drama Jack was brewing.

“Hmm, hmm. What was the name of that place again?” Then his eyes lit up. And he snapped with eureka-like realization. “I remember now! Connor works at Starbucks!”

The rest of the room grew quiet.

Connor was speechless.

Kevin was fighting back tears.

Mrs. Price cleared her throat.

“…Starbucks?” She laughed, for lack of a better reaction. “Isn’t that a… _coffee_ shop?”

“It is.” Kait scoffed. “All of my friends who aren’t Mormon go there and buy frappuccinos.”

Mr. Price straightened his glasses. “What are you doing working in a coffee shop, son?” Jack smiled when Connor refused to answer.

“Maybe he’s not even a Mormon.” He turned to poke at his older brother. “Maybe you should ask Kevin. He walks down every day to see Connor. Don’t you, Kevin?”

“He’s my _friend_ , Jack.” Kevin wheezed.

“Is that why my friend John saw you guys _kissing_ yesterday when he passed by?”

The dining room let out a collective scream. Jack relished the initial shock on their faces.

“Kevin’s been lying to us all this time. Connor’s not a Mormon. He’s a _queer_. And now Kevin is, too.”

The oldest brother managed to shake his head, and to squeak out the smallest form of protest. His family watched him across the table. Hoping, almost crossing their fingers under the table, that Jack was only telling a sick joke. But eventually Kevin bowed his head into submission, defeated. And the rest of the Prices gasped.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Price.” Connor whispered through wetted lips. The father, seated in a hulking mass at the head of the table, slammed his fist on the table and jabbed a finger across to him.

“You did this!” He bellowed. Mrs. Price nodded hectically in agreement. The redhead raised his hands, as if surrendering to end a war.

“I didn’t do _anything_ , Mr. Price, I promise you.”

“You did!” Mrs. Price was red and sputtering like a madwoman. “You turned our son into a homosexual!” Kevin stood, his six feet two inches making up for his lack of intimidating brawn. Though tears streamed pathetically down his cheeks, he was sure to stay and stand his ground.

“I’m not _gay_ , Mom!”

“You kissed a boy, Kevin!” Kait spat in disgust.

“We’re in love!”

It came without warning. Kevin and Connor had to pause, had to graze their fingertips over their lips to confirm that the words had just slipped. And they glanced to each other, to confirm further that they had both confessed the same words. Whether it was true or not, the words rang through the thick summer air in their dining room, and reverberated off the glassware in a shrill echo. We’re in love. Mr. and Mrs. Price took a moment to let the words settle.

“I get it now.” His mother spoke slow, suddenly all too calm. Connor nudged his way over to Kevin, and slipped his hand between his fingers. Mrs. Price swallowed hard. “You’re not sick from your mission. You’re sick because you’re a homosexual.” Connor’s grip loosened.

“Sick?” His eyes glanced to Kevin Price, suddenly sweating and red. Jack laughed.

“Kevin has AIDS.” His voice held just a hint of sudden satisfaction. And his smug grin widened when Connor’s face flushed. “You would know all about that, though, wouldn’t you?” He smiled. The redhead took a step back from Kevin. And another. His back hit the wall with a thud.

“N-no. I actually…” He couldn’t bare to look at his boyfriend. Who he trusted to call his “boyfriend”. “…I _didn’t_ know about that.”

“Con…”

“You have _AIDS_ , Kevin?”

“You… didn’t know?” Reluctance drenched Kait’s little voice. Connor looked around the room with heavy brown eyes and a thick knot in his throat. Slowly, he shook his head.

“See, the funny thing, Mrs. Price, is that we didn’t fuck until a couple weeks ago. And even then, we were smart enough to use protection. Us queers have brains, despite what your church may have taught you.” Then he turned, to look Kevin up and down in disgust. “But I guess I wasn’t smart enough to stop myself from swallowing. Always so caught up in getting fucked that I never stop to consider that my partner might have had AIDS. Though, Kevin, it may have helped just a _tad_ if you remembered to tell me before you watched me guzzle your cum, hm?” The Prices’ stomachs audibly churned in disgust. Mr. Price, again, pounded his fist against the table; the glasses hopped and toppled over when they landed.

“You shut your mouth before I call the police and have you thrown out,!”

Connor gave a dry laugh. “You don’t have to call the police, sir.” He stepped around Kevin, under the archway, and towards the front door of the house. The lock clicked, and the door slammed closed all too soon. Realization struck Kevin too late. But he ran out after the redhead nonetheless, into the street Connor was crossing. He fell onto his knees, grabbing desperately to the other’s hands, pleading in sobs and moans. “Please don’t leave me”s and “I’m so sorry”s and “I love you so much”s. Connor bit on his lip to fight tears he had no desire to feed.

“If you really loved me, you would’ve cared to keep me safe.” He choked. The brunette shook his head, kissed each of the boy’s fingers, his tears pattering onto his milky skin.

“I didn’t even _think_ to tell you. I didn’t know.”

“Then that tells me a lot about you, Kevin.” Connor pulled his hand away with a forceful grunt. “Namely, that you’re not ready for a relationship.” He unbuttoned the top collar of his garish polo. “And I doubt you ever will be.”

“Connor…”

“I’ll see you in Hell, Kevin. Sooner or later. I don’t know what the life expectancy is.”

Connor’s footsteps dissipated in time with Kevin’s hollow heartbeat. Here. He was just here a second ago. He was just his a few minutes before. He was pressed up against him just yesterday morning. Just whispering in his ear last week. And now he was gone. And the quiet loneliness of a drowsy, buzzing Utah street brought a heavy beating to Kevin’s ears. And he suddenly remembered the multiple doses of AZT on his nightstand, or in his pocket, or hidden back at Connor’s place, that he had neglected to take. All of that–the stress and the lack of medication and the screaming back inside his house and in his own head–all of it brought him to his knees. And brought up that awful dinner. And brought his face down into the pavement.

And brought his heart to a stop completely.


End file.
